


Abyssus Abyssum Invocat

by DragonThistle



Series: A Black Backpack Full of Fireworks [8]
Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Black Hat is Fucking Pissed, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Horror, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Torture, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 08:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15770043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonThistle/pseuds/DragonThistle
Summary: "Hell calls hell; one misstep leads to another."In other words, don't cross Black Hat.Ever.





	Abyssus Abyssum Invocat

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to write something nice but instead I wrote this.

Black Hat found Demencia first.

She was suspended in an iron cage, her wrists and ankles shackled together and strapped to the ceiling, leaving her hanging several inches off the floor of the cage. Drool had smeared down her face and over her forehead, hanging upside down as she was. Her usual lizard hood was gone and her wild hair was tangled and matted on the floor.

Black Hat registered all this in the seconds it took him to stride over to the cage and wrench it to pieces. Demencia thudded to the floor and lay sprawled there, loose chains clattering from her wrists and ankles. Black Hat frowned and crouched down, grabbing a fistful of Demencia’s shirt and hauling her to his eye level. Her head lolled, her eyes glazed and vacant, her breathing ragged. Black Hat didn’t need to see the jagged needle marks to smell the drugs in her system.

Those bastards.

His eye narrowed and he snapped the fingers of his free hand. 5.0.5 limped over, leg still tender from the barbed shackle it had been clamped in. Whimpering and murmuring, they gingerly took Demencia into their arms and cradled her against their broad, warm chest. She leaned into the comfortable and soft fur and her eyes slid mostly closed.

“Make sure she stays conscious.” Black Hat ordered, “And stick close. You’re useless at the best of times but with your arms full you can’t do anything.”

5.0.5 wisely kept their mouth shut. Black Hat might have appeared calm and collected but he was furious. Sure, the villain had a temper, one he lost quite frequently, and it could be terrifying to witness. But it was far worse when his voice was ice cold and sounded calm. That collected demeanor was a farce and it meant things would be a hundred times worse for anyone who got in Black Hat’s way. Black Hat was destructive and cruel at his best.

He was sickeningly bloodthirsty at his worst.

5.0.5 kept as close to the villain as they dared, arms tight but gentle around the semi-conscious Demencia. Black Hat kept was moving quickly without running, his steps long, his coat tail billowing out behind him, a pair of angry wings snapping at the shadows. Most who saw him coming bolted. Those who didn’t were trampled. 5.0.5 knew the ones who ran wouldn’t get very far; there were bots with knives and flamethrowers waiting to catch anyone who tried to flee. And there were hungry shadows for anyone who thought they could slip away. One did not make an attempt on the Black Hat Organization and expect to get away with it.

“Where is he?” The very air went sour and cold with the frosty snarl of Black Hat’s voice. He had caught someone higher up than the grunt’s he’d been turning into wall decorations and the woman’s feet were kicking several inches above the ground; Black Hat held her by the throat, tips of his claws needling into the flesh of her neck.

The woman gagged, unable to answer under Black Hat’s tight grip, and he hurled her against the nearest wall. Something snapped and she screamed in pain. In 5.0.5’s arms, Demencia stirred, head flopping over as she jerked dazedly towards the source of the noise.

“Where. Is. He.” Black Hat repeated, angry whispers hissing out from between his clenched teeth. He loomed over the broken woman, shadow draped over her like a death shroud, his one eye glowing a hellfire crimson.

His victim shrank back, whimpering, and managed to squeeze out a few directions between her escalating sobs before she collapsed into near hysterics, “Please! P-please don—don’t kill me! Please! I—my c-children—I h-h-have children—!”

Black Hat took in her pleas with an uninterested disgust for a few seconds before he let his hungry shadows swallow her whole. Then he licked his lips with an oily green tongue, straightened his suit jacket, and set off again with nary a glance at his two employees. 5.0.5 followed quietly at a distance, Demencia murmuring nonsense into their fur.

In a sick form of cliche irony, they heard the screams before they found the source.

A heavy iron door barred the way but doors had never been an obstacle for a creature like Black Hat. He could have walked right through the barrier, but instead he sank his claws into the metal and tore the entire thing off its hinges, throwing it and a good chunk of the wall into the room. It screeched and sparked as it banged and slid across the floor before coming to a smashing halt against a lab table. The impact knocked the table over, scattering beakers and instruments and a bunsen burner or two across the floor. Something sparked from the burners and caught, beginning a slow and smoky burn.

Black Hat had no eyes for such trivial matters. His gaze was fixed solely upon his ruined employee.

Flug was strapped to a table, electrodes pasted to his forehead and shoulders, his chest and all their modified inner workings exposed. Even as they watched, another flood of electricity coursed through the captured scientist, making his body arch and a scream tear unbidden from his throat. Sparks and blood and smoke spat from his open chest cavity, pinkish drool smeared down his face, and the air stank of ozone and iron.

Then the room went black.

Not dark, but black. The walls and floor and ceiling were black, a void so deep it hurt to look at, a black so rich it sucked in the light. Seams split through the void surrounding the shivering kidnappers and peeled open. Eyes rolled in their sockets and pointed wordless accusations from every angle, lips peeled apart in the darkness in furious snarls and lashing tongues, and reaching hands rose up to snatch menacingly at the now nearly hysterical victims. Acidic drool dangled from the open maws, hissing as it dripped and hit the floor. Some splashed on one of the kidnappers and he screamed as the saliva ate right through skin and muscle until it seared through his bone and his arm fell to the floor with a thudding splat. A group of arms with plucking hands, as ebony and silky looking as the creature who had spawned them, snagged an inattentive victim and they screeched as lithe fingers plucked out their eyes. Another gagged and choked as a ropey tongue shoved its way down their throat, making their skin bulge and their stomach squirm like a sack full of worms.

It was chaos. Disgusting, horrible, torturing chaos.

Black Hat paid them all no mind. He was already carefully and cooly wrapping Flug in his heavy suit coat and carrying him out the door. Some of the others tried to follow them out but where had once been a hole in the wall, there was now only that same metal door, seamlessly reattached to the wall as if it had never been torn off. Black Hat didn’t look back as he led 5.0.5 away, not even when desperate fists pounded on the iron and voices pleaded for redemption.

He didn’t look back once as he marched through the halls and stepped out into the cold night air. Red and blue lights danced back and forth across his body and he paused, his expression stony. Dozens of weapons were pointed at the four of them and a handful of heroes were hovering nearby, ready to strike. 5.0.5 whimpered and shrank back, shielding Demencia as best they could from the danger in front of them.

“If anyone tries to stop me from attending to my employees,” Black Hat’s voice made the air snap and pop and several officers fainted just at the sound of it, “Then they will spend the rest of eternity miserable and begging for a death that will not come.”

It was a testament to the fear they hold that the cliche line makes all of them—the heroes and the police—draw back and lower their weapons. Black Hat stared them down for a moment longer and then strode forward with the confidence of a creature who knows just how deadly he can be. 5.0.5 followed meekly behind, gaze darting too and fro, watching for any sign of attack. No one would meet his gaze.

And Black Hat did not look back.


End file.
